Shea Butter

It hides the bruise on my right shoulder. The one that I got, while riding in that shopping cart, When we went to the Rite-Aid before school, In the parking lot. I didn’t trust you enough to let you catch me, Because I didn’t think you’d be able to. You’d think I was fat, being 112. You’d drop me instantly and think, That I was nothing but a stupid, ugly girl, The way they all do. But you reached out to catch me, The second I tipped over, And I veered right, Thus, The road-rash on my shoulder.

It hides the scar on my left knee. The one I got, when I was two, or so, And I had just learned to dribble my new red bouncy ball, In the courtyard. I didn’t think I would fall, in fact, I didn’t think at all, Because I was having too much fun. There was something that I could finally do, Without the help of my parents. I was running and dribbling at the same time, And I could feel the wind, Blow through my curly hair. I was a cute toddler. Too cute to realize you need to watch your step, Or else you will fall. And I did. Thus, The ice pack to my tiny left knee minutes later.

And it hides the reasons why. It hides the fact that maybe I wanted to fall, Out of that shopping cart, going 15 miles an hour. It hides the fact that maybe even at two years old, I wanted to know what pain felt like, Because I’d never experienced it before. Well, now I know, It’s not a fun feeling. Even when you, yourself, control it. Not for me. So the next time you come around and break my heart, I know it’ll be soon, I’ll whip out my shea butter, and make everything okay. But the container reads, for external use only. I wish I had known that before I bought it. Now what?

June 24, 2011

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